


Song of Wolves

by Netgirl_y2k



Category: Merlin (TV), Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Crossover, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 20:40:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Netgirl_y2k/pseuds/Netgirl_y2k
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Red can't decide if Morgana is the Evil Queen without a kingdom, or the Dark One without Rumpelstiltskin's sense of mirth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Song of Wolves

The dagger bites into the skin of Red's neck, and the woman hisses into her ear, "How did you _do_ that?"

Even on the morning after a full moon, groggy and disorientated, Red is quick enough to step easily out of the woman's grasp.

She whips round and finds herself facing a woman dressed all in black, she has dark hair and pale unhealthy skin, and she's brandishing a dagger at Red.

"Who are you? Where am I?" The woman frowns, half-lowering her dagger and mostly looking mildly aggrieved at Red's wolf-reflexes. "And how did you do _that_?"

*

Morgana is not Snow White, and as cabins in the woods go their hovel leaves a lot to be desired.

But in trying to protect Red, and prevent Regina from using her against Snow and Charming, Snow White has accidentally sent her to one of the only worlds where a girl who turns into a wolf is even less welcome than she would be in the Enchanted Forest. 

*

There is only one bed in the hovel, and it is never in question that Red will be sharing it.

Morgana likes her speed and her strength, and when she tires of them she can hold Red down and coil magic around her until she makes a noise that's more bitch than girl or wolf.

*

Morgana watches Red split firewood. She could always use magic, or ever lower herself to picking up an axe and finishing the chore by hand, but she enjoys the view, and Red likes showing off. 

"I'd love to see you fight my brother. I can just imagine the look on Arthur's face when he realises how much stronger and faster than him you are."

Red stubbornly refuses to become involved in Morgana's vendetta against her brother, but equally she is not about to defect to Camelot. 

King Arthur does not sound like the kind of man who would look kindly on a werewolf; in Red's mind he is the King George to Morgana's Regina.

*

Red can't decide if Morgana is the Evil Queen of this world only without a kingdom, or the Dark One without Rumplestiltskin's sense of mirth.

You would think that would be enough to discourage Red from sharing her bed, and if Snow or Granny had come through the portal with her it probably would have been.

*

By the light of the full moon wolf-Red likes Morgana more than girl-Red does in the sunshine. It's because she can see the shadows of Morgana's pack haunting her; the dead, the gone, and the abandoned. 

The wolf is the only part of Red allowed to hate Snow White for sending her away.

Morgana curls her fingers into the ruff of fur at Red's neck and says, "Teach me how you do that."

*

"It's not a spell," Red tries to explain come dawn, "it's a curse."

Red occasionally has fangs and even she thinks Morgana's smile is a little too sharp when she says, "That's what they _want_ you to think!"

*

Morgana holds Red down with flesh and bone and magic, she licks and sucks at her skin as though she's trying to absorb the wolf through sweat and saliva alone.

Red presses her nose against Morgana's throat and _inhales_ the scent of blood.

*

Human teeth are not meant for breaking human skin, but if you are determined and your victim lies still and bares her throat...

*

Red has nightmares about murdering Peter, about the taste of his blood, and at the first rush of Morgana's blood across her tongue she feels at once both nauseated and _not alone._

*

They make a pack of two; two magic wolf girls in a world that hates everything they are.


End file.
